I was supposed to fly up to San Francisco this weekend, but I had to cancel because I am surrounded by sick people. I’ve yet to be infected, but I can’t run the risk of getting Jackie! sick. I’m supposed to go up again in two weeks, but still. Suck.
Annie came down with sniffles on Sunday night. I originally thought it was from her teeth – her molars are coming in right now and really causing her some discomfort. But then she asked to cuddle with me, and after about ten minutes or so, she was asleep. Asleep! The child who hates sleep!
The next morning her nose was like a faucet, and Mike was flipping out.”We’re gonna get sick,” Mike said over and over. “I know it! I just know it!” Annie seemed perfectly happy, though. She still ran around, playing and eating and generally acting fine, other than saying every minute or so, “Wipe my nose, mama!” I was certain it was her teeth.
Then Mike got a man cold, so I had to tell Jackie! the situation. Boo.
I woke up last night to Annie crying because her nose was running while she slept. I went in to settle her and clean her up, and when I came back to my room I found Mike, in sweat pants and a sweat shirt, shivering in bed. He got up and turned on the heater, then piled blankets on top of himself. A few hours later, he was sweating and he turned on the air conditioning. Rigby and I didn’t love the abrupt climate changes.
Yesterday, Mike was laying on the couch, moaning. Annie climbed up next to him, patted his face, and said, “Dada? Wake up? Come play!” Mike replied, “No Annie, Dada is sick.” Annie looked at him and said, “So?”
Sarcasm starts at age two, apparently.